


Locked In

by link621



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-07
Updated: 2012-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26399995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/link621/pseuds/link621
Summary: Sanada, with a little push from Yanagi, finally makes his move on Valentine's Day.
Relationships: Sanada Genichirou/Yukimura Seiichi
Kudos: 3





	Locked In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kashewmoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashewmoo/gifts).



Valentine’s Day.  
  
Just the words struck dread in the regulars at Rikkai’s tennis club - all of them but Bunta, anyway. He thought a holiday where cute girls gave boys free food was a great idea, especially with their captain refusing to eat anything with as much sugar in it as chocolates and passing his spoils off to the rest of the team. Generally, it was a day when they would have a team meeting rather than practice - they had tried to practice in the past, back in junior high, but quickly learned that nothing could be accomplished with gaggles of girls vying for the attention of their favorite team member.  
  
There was no question that the captain, Yukimura Seiichi was one of the most popular. He was soft-spoken, aloof, and mysterious... in combination the personality traits formed a potent cocktail that was lethal to any girl’s heart that should dare cross his path. That was what it seemed to be, anyway. Throw in nearly a year in a hospital and the chance for relapse and he became sympathetic to boot. “And he’s a pretty boy,” Renji had helpfully pointed out when Genichirou grumbled the question aloud to himself as to why Seiichi was the recipient of so much of attention from the girls.  
  
Genichirou himself, much to his dismay, was far and above the leader in earning the attention of the girls. He was everything Seiichi was not - loud, arrogant, and wore his heart on his sleeve... at least, in front of anyone who knew him only by witnessing practice. What would attract the same girl to both boys was completely beyond his comprehension. “You’re...” Renji almost struggled with his words. Almost - Renji was never truly at a loss for words. “...Handsome, Genichirou.” He mangled the name horribly, as he always had, and as he always probably would.  
  
“Don’t worry about it, Sanada.” The way Seiichi spoke his name was light and flippant - it was an afterthought on the end of the sentence. Seiichi himself probably had no idea he said it, though something wormed through Genichirou’s stomach every time he did. The worm would coil itself up into a tight knot, sometimes, when Seiichi’s eyes fell upon him. Others it would gnaw away at him, leaving a painful hole when Seiichi’s attention fell upon others. Girls, mostly. Girls who gave him chocolates he would not eat and all but begged for his attention... as if Genichirou himself were any better.  
  
“Worry?” Genichirou scoffed, taking his shoes out of his locker and looking over his shoulder at Seiichi. The others had gone home, it was just the three of them in the quiet of the locker room, else they would not be having this conversation. Akaya was stuck a year behind them in junior high, still, or they would not be having these conversations period. Ever. Not anywhere. “It’s not a contest.”  
  
“Bunta just eats it all anyway,” Seiichi pointed out, shrugging his shoulders. His uniform shirt was one size too big - his mother worried obsessively over the possibility of Seiichi’s pending growth spurt and thus all of his clothes were just a bit too big for him as he was nearing the start of his second year in high school. Genichirou found his eyes fixing on the way Seiichi’s long, dexterous fingers did up his tie, pulling the knot tight but not all the way to his collar. As he looked away to find his hat in his locker, he made the mistake of meeting Renji’s eyes.  
  
He knew that look. That was a, “stop being a dumbass,” look that Renji had been giving him for weeks. Months. A while, regardless.  
  
Renji stood, shouldering his bag. “I got some good data today, at least,” he told them, waving a notebook labeled, “Sanada Genichirou” with one hand. He then smiled a bit, “But I have a date - so I should be leaving.”  
  
“A date? Not with that girl, again, right?” Seiichi sighed, slipping on his wrist weights.  
  
“She’s horrible,” Genichirou agreed.  
  
Renji raised an eyebrow and adjusted his bag. “Yes, the same girl. I enjoyed her company.” He stepped past both of them to the door and adjusted his bag on his shoulder again before opening it. “Maybe you should go out tonight, too... Seiichi, Genichirou.” There was that garbled version of Genichirou’s name, again.  
  
“With who - each other?” Seiichi laughed lightly, though the words froze Genichirou in his tracks.  
  
Renji also chuckled. “See you in the morning.” Then, he was gone. The clubhouse was quiet once more but for the rustle of the two boys searching their lockers for remaining belongings they needed.  
  
Seiichi’s words were ringing in Genichirou’s ears - his face flush and body rigid. If it had been a joke, as it probably was, he should not be getting so worked up. He was afraid to find out - afraid of either possibility, but still his head turned to glance over his shoulder at Seiichi’s back - his sweatband being pulled out of his hair. Even through the too-big oxford, Genichirou could make out the curve of Seiichi’s back, his broad shoulders, and there was just a peek of his lovely pale neck when he would tilt his head down.  
  
The uniform pants fit perfectly, contrary to the shirt. Seiichi was strong, his legs were quite muscular, and he would never be accused of having a flat backside.  
  
That backside, among other things, had been haunting Genichirou’s thoughts for months. Seiichi’s husky voice, soft brown eyes gazing through long lashes, and agile fingers graced the best of his dreams at night. He would find his eyes wandering down the defined curve of Seiichi’s bicep when his arms were crossed over his chest at practice, or wandering up the lean cut of his calf as he lunged for a difficult volley.  
  
He pretended not to notice Seiichi’s eyes on him, too. He did not feel the occasional touch of Seiichi’s hands. He did not notice the warmth of Seiichi’s smile as his eyes fell upon him.  
  
He wanted for months and months. Agonized, writhed, and screamed. But here he was, set up perfectly by Renji, and stunned in his tracks. Seiichi was going to leave and Genichirou was going to spend all night on Valentine’s Day imagining the words spoken by so many girls to come from Seiichi’s lips, instead. As though he had not spent enough hours pondering Seiichi’s lips and what they must feel like upon prone flesh.  
  
Seiichi was reaching his hand up to close his locker and Genichirou found himself placing his hand over Seiichi’s from behind, holding it at his side. His other arm wrapped around Seiichi, pressing into his stomach, holding him there. He had to lean over the bench between the lockers, but he got his right shoulder firmly pressed into Seiichi’s back, his nose brushing against wisps of inky waves of hair. He smelled of sweat, still, from morning practice without a shower - under that, something sweet. His shampoo? Genichirou’s eyes closed.  
  
Seiichi was motionless, his arms hanging limply at his sides, his head moving forward just a little, away from Gencihirou. It exposed more of his neck above his collar, his lovely neck that Genichirou thought of often. He breathed in Seiichi’s scent once more before touching his lips tentatively to his neck.  
  
“Sanada,” Seiichi breathed, though he still did not move. The sound of his voice only served to encourage Genichioru to kiss him again, along his neck, at his hair line, where his jaw met his throat. “Mm,” Seiichi murmured almost in protest, his head tilting back a bit again.  
  
They both fell still, silent. The room felt suddenly very large, the door very far away. “Should I stop?” Gencihirou mumbled, his lips on Seiichi’s ear.  
  
Too quickly, Seiichi replied, “No, don’t.” His head tipped forward again. More kisses, more tastes - Genichirou ran his tongue along Seiichi’s vertebrae and was welcomed with as thin shudder. So close to finally getting what he had yearned for, so close to Seiichi, Gencihirou felt his hand tighten in Seiichi’s shirt. He scraped his teeth lightly over Seiichi’s neck and was answered with a deep gasp, and a startled, “Gencihirou.”  
  
It gave him pause. It was not the first time, by any means, but to hear it like this... without the flippancy, without defaulting to his surname, without any hint of irony or teasing... It felt as though even his heart came to a dead stop in that moment.  
  
Then Seiichi was moving, they both were, facing one another. Their eyes met from up close. Something unspoken passed between them - tense and unwavering.  
  
Genichirou had no idea how they ended up kissing, how Seiichi’s back ended up pressed to the locker as he stumbled over the bench, or how his leg got tangled in the strap of Seiichi’s tennis bag. Everything was impulse and motion - heavy breaths and sound. He was lost in it for what could have been less than a heartbeat, or a small eternity.  
  
Something settled over his hair and he froze again, for a moment deeply embarrassed wondering if it was Renji’s hand on his head and the Data Master had witnessed it all.  
  
His hat.  
  
Seiichi yanked the bill down further to cover Gencihirou’s eyes.  
  
“We should lock up, Sanada.” That tone was back - the infuriatingly flippant tone.  
  
“Seiichi,” Genichirou protested, righting his hat and frowning at his captain.  
  
Seiichi’s tie was undone along with the top two buttons of his shirt. His hand was fiddling with his own belt buckle as he once more gave Genichirou that horrible long look through his lashes.  
  
Oh. Genichirou understood. He didn’t mean lock up. He meant lock in.  
  
His protests died quickly as he crossed the room and turned the lock in the door. For good measure, he hit the light switch. Seiichi, beautiful Seiichi, had undone a few more buttons in that short time and was welcoming him with a coy smile.


End file.
